The recent dropping of charges against Dr. Jumana Nagarwala, who is accused of performing female genital cutting on underage girls in the United States, on a constitutional technicality rather than perceived criminality, solidified my thinking about the relationship between power and oppression.

This thought was first introduced to me by Irfan Engineer, the son of Asghar Ali Engineer, a prominent activist who engaged in a decades-long battle with the Bohra orthodoxy over community reform. Irfan, a successful activist in his own right, described to me the relationship between the Indian state and the Bohra clergy. As long as the clergy declared electoral allegiance to the government, the state would turn a blind eye to the clergy’s authoritarian rule over the Bohra community. This relationship was made visible by the government’s reversal of its support for a national law against FGC, shortly after Prime Minister Modi (dis)graced the stage at one of this year’s Bohra Ashura sermons.

Modi extolled the virtues of the economically and educationally advanced Bohras, who were allegedly setting a great example for their impoverished and persecuted Muslim countrymen. Seeing Modi on stage, Bohra Muslims could almost forget the carnage inflicted in Gujarat in 2002, and Modi’s rampant Islamophobia since. The Bohra community has probably been shielded from Islamophobic violence because of the clergy’s close relationship with the ruling right-wing BJP (Bharatiya Janata Party) and its ideological parent, the RSS (Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh).

Even I was willing to overlook the fact that the Indian government’s attempt at criminalising FGC was based more on criminalising Muslims rather than empowering women. Yet, I thought, maybe the ends will justify the means. I was wrong. Modi’s relationship with the Bohra clergy makes it clear that we cannot rely on the Indian government to end FGC in our community. Even if the Supreme Court rules in favour of criminalising FGC, we can be certain that the government will do nothing to enforce the ruling.

This violent relationship between the state and vulnerable women is not restricted to the Indian context. I am reminded of the first FGC case to be prosecuted in Australia, where three people were sent to jail after being proven guilty. An appeals court, however, acquitted them all after new evidence was released that showed that “the tip of the clitoris was still visible in each girl”. The reduction of the emotional, physical and ideological violence of FGC down to a visual assessment of a pinch of skin shows the weakness of even Western legal systems in protecting marginalised women. It is similar to the victim blaming that is still a routine in rape trials, and the inability of the state to protect women who report honour-based violence. Whether through negligence or structural misogyny, Western and non-Western governments have failed women.

If the government is not an ally, could I turn instead to ‘reformists’ within my own community?

I am in contact with certain Bohras who are not part of the mainstream community, and reject the leadership of the current clergy. They believe that the current leaders have deviated from the true message of the Imams, and that we must educate ourselves by going back to the original sources of our tradition. I thought that this group of people (mostly men), espousing rationality and critical inquiry, would immediately be against FGC. I was wrong. The emphasis on going back to the original sources means that they accept, uncritically, the infamous book by Qadi Numan (Da’im Al Islam) that advocates for girls to be ‘circumcised’ once they are older than 7 years old. Any debate, often started by the few women in the WhatsApp group, about the necessity of this practice in our modern context, or even about the issue of consent, is shut down. I thought that a shared experience of living under a tyrannical religious clergy might force these men to be more critical of existing power structures and hear the voices of marginalised women. Once again, I was wrong. I learned that the patriarchy, embodied by these ‘reformist’ men, can never be leveraged to end violence against women.

I learned that it is not worth compromising my core values in order to ally with fickle powers that do not center marginalised voices and their struggles. Real change can only happen from the ground up. This is why the work done by organisations such as Sahiyo is vital. By reaching out to individuals, and creating a space to share our stories, Sahiyo creates sustainable change within the community, and rebalances the power structures that exist within.

Sahiyo co-founder Shaheeda Tavawalla-Kirtane talks to Shabnam Muqbil and her husband, Koen Van den Brande, who give us an introduction to the Suleimanis and throw light on the practice of ‘khatna’ amongst their community.

Shaheeda: Please share with us the history of the Suleimanis and where they come from?

Shabnam: The Suleimani Bohras (Suleimanis) are a sub-sect of the Musta’lī Bohra community of the Ismā’īli branch of Shia Islam. They belong to Tayyibi Ismā’īlis, which bifurcated into various Bohra sects including the major group DawoodiBohra. Akin to Dawoodi Bohras, the twin communities follow the same religious tenets and practices. The Suleimanis belong mainly to Yemen and in India are a minority of only 10% of the total Bohra population. There are many Suleimani families who are spread across the world, including the Middle East, Pakistan, Europe, South-east Asia, North America and Australia. The community has now dropped the ‘Bohra’ from its name so we just call ourselves Suleimanis.

Shaheeda: What about the religious structure and hierarchy of the Suleimanis – can you give us some information on this?

Shabnam: The religious and spiritual leader of the Suleimanis is called the ‘Da’i’ and he is still based in Yemen, unlike the Dawoodi Bohras, who moved the seat of power to India many generations ago. The present Da’i is an Arab, residing in Yemen.

Koen: The regional/local leader who is representative of the Da’i is called the ‘Hazrat’ and, currently, Hazrat Gulam Husain Husami and Hazrat Ibrahim Ziaee jointly lead the Suleimani community in India and all over the world; Mullahs guide smaller diaspora communities.

Shabnam Muqbil and Koen Van den Brande

Shaheeda: Tell us some more about the Suleimanis – their customs, education and trade, their way of life?

Shabnam: The Suleimanis are an enterprising and well-educated community that has produced some incredibly talented individuals who have offered much to Indian society, in their own unique ways. As ‘Bohras’, also known as ‘vohras’ or traders, the Suleimani community has traditionally engaged in business. However, there are many notable leaders who have excelled in other professions like law, medicine and education.

Badruddin Tyabji – the third President of the Indian National Congress and the first Indian to hold the post of Chief Justice in Mumbai

Dr Salim Ali – ornithologist and naturalist, sometimes referred to as the ‘birdman of India’; recipient of the Padma Bhushan and Padma Vibhushan, India’s second highest civilian honour

Asaf Ali Asghar Fyzee – Indian educator, jurist, author, diplomat, and Islamic scholar; considered one of leading pioneers of modern Ismaili studies; recipient of India’s third highest civilian award, the Padma Bhushan

Koen: Suleimanis may not be identifiable on the street, per se, as they don’t have a unique dress code like the Dawoodi Bohras. But they have their community mosques in which the women pray on a separate floor. It must be noted that the women, however, are treated as equals and not restricted from getting an education or practicing a profession, though they are encouraged to marry within the community.

Shaheeda: Most Dawoodi Bohras have never heard of any other sect engaging in the practice of Female Genital Cutting in India. Can you elaborate on the prevalence of the practice amongst the Suleimanis?

Shabnam: I have written about my personal experience on your blog, and I am aware that it continues to be practiced by some. It is typically performed between 6 to 9 years of age and, like the Dawoodi Bohra practice, female genital cutting or female circumcision amongst the Suleimanis is called ‘khatna’.

I know of at least one 20-year-old who underwent ‘khatna’ as a child, but at that time already it was being done under an anaesthetic. It is typically performed by a member of the Dawoodi Bohra community in a hospital; ten years ago, the cost for the procedure was Rs 15,000.

I don’t know about the extent of cutting, but more recently, parents are considering this as ‘clitoral unhooding’ and as a minor procedure.

Also, I cannot comment with certainty on the prevalence or how widely it is carried out today by members of the community, but it is practiced in some families; I do know that several leading families banned ‘khatna’ a generation ago. I strongly believe that research must be conducted to ascertain the extent of the practice today.

Shaheeda: What are the reasons that are given for the practice?

Shabnam: To prevent promiscuity by suppressing sexual desire is what most women believe to be the reason for carrying out the practice. The leadership denies that as a reason, though. Religion and tradition are other reasons given for the practice.

Shaheeda:Is ‘khatna’ considered obligatory or is it considered a religious requirement? What do your religious texts say on the subject?

Koen: It is the parents’ choice, as per our religious leadership. But it is also considered a religious requirement by some members of the community.

From my research, this is what I have gathered and I believe the book used to justify it is the same as the one used by the Dawoodi Bohras for validating the practice.

From the Da’a’im al-Islam, Vol 1, Book of Ritual Purity, pages 154-55:

The Messenger of God (ﷺ) said: “Circumcision is (a feature) of natural religion (al-Fitra)”. He also said, “No Muslim should be left uncircumcised even though he has reached the age of 80”.

Ameer al-Mu’mineen also said: “O women, when you circumcise your daughters, leave part (of the skin), for this will be chaster for their character, and it will make them more beloved by their husbands”.

He also said, “Hasten with the circumcision of your children, for indeed it leads to greater Purity.” He said that a girl should not be circumcised until she is 7 years old.

And from the Da’a’im al-Islam, Vol 2, Book of Wills, page 346:

Ameer al-Mu’mineen, Hazrat ‘Ali ibne Abi Talib wrote the following words as a part of his will, exhorting the people: “Be expeditious in the circumcision (khitaan) of your children, for verily, it is cleaner for them.”

Shaheeda: Do the men in your community know about this practice?Does it still find much favour amongst the younger generation?

Koen: From my conversations, some men did not know about it… or claimed not to know. As for the opinion amongst the younger generation, I discussed it with young parents and got pledges not to do it to their daughters. I am uncertain about the attitudes of the younger generation, but I want to try and get more information and find a way to protect young girls.

Shaheeda: If it ‘khatna’ isn’t performed, is that considered acceptable?

Koen: Some feel it is the choice of the parents.

Shaheeda: If it is not performed then is there a fear of social boycott or other repercussions?

Shabnam: Probably. There would be fear, especially when it comes to the right to use to community burial grounds. That fear appears to be real for many, even though the religious leadership has clarified that there would be no compulsion to perform it.

Shaheeda: What is the general community view on the subject?

Koen: Dialogue has only just started, but we have come across some men from the community who are willing to oppose ‘khatna’ whereas others believe it is required and characterize it as only a minor operation. Women accept it as a religious requirement, often without being able to give a reason for it.

Shaheeda: What is the commentary from the religious order in the Suleimani community regarding the practice?

Shabnam: From our conversations, we have learnt that it is not considered an obligation and that parents are free to decide. We were told that, as a rule, if there isn’t a good reason then it is not necessary to do something. We have also learnt from conversations in our community that some believe that there are ‘spiritual’ reasons behind the practice, which are beyond comprehension for the average person.

Shaheeda: What is your hope for the future of the practice amongst your community? How do you see it coming to an end?

Koen: I think there is a real opportunity to look again at this practice and to find a way forward that is respectful of people’s beliefs whilst also protecting young girls from something they cannot possibly expect to understand at a young age.

Shabnam: I would very much like for the practice to be stopped and the hope is that better sense prevails.